


The Stars Are Different Here

by musicofthespheres



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: 3 year gap, Demisexual Vegeta, F/M, Outdoor Sex, Three Year Gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:09:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10017161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicofthespheres/pseuds/musicofthespheres
Summary: Vegeta: prince of the mighty, fallen Saiyan race, stuck on the planet where he met his defeat. Bulma: the human who saved him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nofcksgiven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofcksgiven/gifts).



> I finally finished it! Thanks so much to nofcksgiven for all those thoughtful, kind comments on my stories. This one's for you, babe. <3

**_i._ **

He was a proud Saiyan warrior with no throne, no subjects, and nowhere to go. He was homeless, tailless, and directionless. Now he had to depend upon handouts and pity from some wealthy family on this weak backwater planet just to survive, and he had been surpassed by third-class trash on his path to achieving the legendary ascension to Super Saiyan. 

_ Oh, how the mighty have fallen, _ Vegeta lamented to himself. He swished the brown liquid around in his glass before taking a long, burning sip. The smooth alcohol coated his palate and tingled as it slid down his throat. He welcomed the numbing sensation that came with it.

Vegeta sat on the railing of the tiny balcony outside his room with his back against the chilled marble pillars. The clear night sky above shone with billions of twinkling lights, different in arrangement from those he had observed in his youth. He had attempted to study the star charts made available to him in the massive Briefs family library, but he could not make sense of the better number of them. They were foreign both in design and in the written language describing Earth’s celestial surroundings. Had he been forced to rely upon cosmic navigation like the space-farers of old, he would have marooned himself somewhere uninhabitable long ago. 

Vegeta’s musings were interrupted by the sound of crying below. Curious, he dropped down to the grass, earning him a startled gasp as the heiress Bulma looked up at him. 

They stared at each other for a long moment before Bulma finally spoke. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” she sniffled. 

Normally, Vegeta would have come up with a biting, sarcastic remark in response as had become their custom, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so this time. The woman was sitting on a bench and looking utterly miserable, and her question had been genuine. 

He shook his head once. “What happened?” 

The question just slipped out. Some nagging part of him told him he didn’t care about this weak human and her frail emotions, but he silenced it harshly. Now was not the time for that. He couldn’t jeopardize her kindness toward him.

“Nothing you care about,” she sniffled.

_ That's probably true, _ he thought, but sat down beside her and watched her expectantly anyway. 

She sighed. “I’m just having a bad day. There’s a lot on my mind, and a lot of shit is going wrong.” 

Vegeta shrugged. “Back in Frieza’s army, when I would have bad days, I would train harder to take my mind off it.. You’re not a fighter, though, so I don’t know how to help you.”  _ Not that I want to help,  _ he added silently to reassure himself that he wasn’t becoming some soft, sensitive, caring individual. 

Bulma smiled sadly at his feeble attempt. “I suppose I could work on improving the programming in your training bots for the grav room,” she said. “That always helps me to refocus.” 

They sat in silence for a good long while. Vegeta tilted his head back to watch the sky as the heavenly bodies made their journey across it, mentally calculating the speed of the planet’s rotation to fill the deafening quiet. 

“Do you like stargazing?” Bulma asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“The stars are different here,” Vegeta replied quietly. A thoughtful frown settled on his face. “I don’t know if I like that.” 

Bulma shivered as the night air dampened her skin with dew. “I guess I should head inside,” she said. “Thanks for listening.” 

Vegeta remained on the bench long after she left, contemplating his place in the universe. His entire life had led him here, to this planet and to this woman. Maybe he should do what he could with what he was given.

 

_**ii.** _

When Vegeta returned to his room, he found that he couldn’t sleep. Some weird part of him longed to see the woman’s face again. A pit formed in his stomach when he thought of her tears. Vegeta was not a tender person. He was fierce, selfish, and spiteful. He had never taken a woman for his own pleasure, but only to appease the cajoling of his fellow Saiyans. He didn’t see the point of it at all. 

But in these past months, a fire had ignited within him that refused to be quenched. His dreams were ruled by scenes of passion; the desperate, breathy sounds of lovemaking filled his unconscious hours and only one face lingered in his mind whenever he awoke. 

Her stubbornness invoked in him an unfamiliar fury. It was a fury that he left unchecked for far too long, and now it was tearing him apart from the inside. He felt anger over what he could not control: whatever had caused the earthling woman to cry, his own bleak plight, and his roiling emotions that came from a knee-jerk, gut reaction to both of the aforementioned things. Vegeta stared at the austere ceiling above and found himself wondering (and maybe hoping) if the woman was as troubled as he. 

When he finally awakened sometime around midday, Vegeta felt a presence near his room. He slipped on a pair of shorts and crept toward the door, peeking out into the hallway after he checked for its intent. It was the woman. 

She sat against the wall, furiously typing on her laptop. She was too engrossed in her task to notice that she was being watched, so when Vegeta cleared his throat, she jumped. 

“Hey,” she said, glaring up at him in attempt to hide her surprise. “I was wondering when you were going to get your lazy ass out of bed.” 

Vegeta tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Since when are my sleeping habits any concern of yours?” He replied gruffly. The temporary truce they wordlessly agreed upon the night before was clearly over. She gave no indication that it had ever happened. 

“Since I need you to come test some changes I made, and I don't have all day to wait for you.” 

Vegeta glanced out the wide bay windows in his bedroom; the sun was already past its peak in the sky and was beginning its slow descent toward evening. “How long have you been sitting here?” He asked, knowing full well she had to have been waiting for several hours already. 

“That's irrelevant,” she responded, tucking her laptop away in its case and standing. “Let's go.” 

Vegeta stared at her for a long moment and she stared back before abruptly looking away. The air around them became heavy; Bulma’s ki changed ever-so-slightly, so much so that it was nearly imperceptible. Her scent, however, changed in a way that the full force of it hit Vegeta like a wave. 

It was achingly similar to the scent that permeated his room when he woke up from one of  _ those _ dreams. He stared harder, and in the fleeting look she afforded him, he saw terror in her eyes. 

At least, he thought it was terror. The accompanying sheen that alighted on her skin, her increased heart rate, the dilation of her pupils - all of it pointed to the same terror he had seen in the faces of those whose planets he had purged. 

But her face remained still. Her breathing remained steady. So was it terror? Or was it something else? 

Nevertheless, he did as he was told. Whatever magic she had placed upon him (he suspected she must be some form of sorceress, it was the only explanation for why he followed her every whim even if he didn’t wish it) worked upon his sleep-heavy limbs as he followed her to the gravity room. 

 

**_iii._ **

Desire. 

That’s what it was. 

It had to be. The way his stomach twisted and turned when she turned her bright blue eyes his way, his dreams, the way his gaze lingered upon her curves - it all pointed to one thing. He desired the earth woman called Bulma. 

It was foreign and unnerving. What he done to the gods to deserve such a fate? Whose sick idea of a joke was it to bestow upon him this unwanted and  _ unwarranted _ reaction? 

Weeks of contemplation, analysis (and self-analysis, which Vegeta had avoided like the plague before being unable to find a better solution), and research had led him to this conclusion. Now he sat on his balcony once more, a double-serving of scotch in his glass. There were no stars to be seen tonight. A layer of clouds blanketed the entire sky, seemingly mirroring his clouded mood. 

Vegeta washed down half his glass in one swallow, willing the numbness to take him over, already. Well, the alcohol certainly had  _ some  _ effect on him, but not the one he was hoping for. He had been toying with the idea of acting on his impulses for the last several hours, and now, bolstered by liquid courage, he prepared to make his advance. 

He leapt of the balcony and onto the cool grass. Bulma’s bedroom was across the gardens, and surely she must be there by this time of night. Belatedly remembering to sense her ki, Vegeta was surprised to discover that she was much nearer than she had expected. 

He followed the signature like a bloodhound on a scent trail, twisting this way and that through the corridors of foliage until he found himself at the center of the maze. The clouds had broken, revealing a serene, moonlit pond. 

The woman was on the far shore, feet swaying in the water, reading a book by flashlight. Vegeta could feel the steady  _ thud-thud  _ of her heart and the relaxed scent of contentedness flowing from her. Her ki, as minuscule as it was, ebbed and flowed like the gentle waves made by her feet. 

“Woman,” Vegeta said by way of announcing himself. 

Bulma looked up, her eyes twinkling by the artificial light, and squinted into the darkness. Vegeta emerged from the shadows and stood perfectly still at the edge of the pond. Dulled by the scotch or no, his powers of perception were all trained on her. 

Upon realizing who her visitor was, all of Bulma’s senses went on high alert. “Vegeta,” she whispered, placing her book pages-side-down on the ground next to her. “What are you doing here?” she asked, loudly enough that her voice carried across the water. 

And suddenly, Vegeta wasn't so sure of himself. He hesitated, looked behind him, made to turn away, but she called out his name. He faced her once more, a question in his eyes. She did want him to stay? Was she asking him to? 

“Come, sit,” she said, patting the ground next to her. 

Vegeta remained stationary. 

“You going to say something?” Bulma asked after a prolonged, uncomfortable silence. 

“Maybe,” Vegeta replied stubbornly. He obeyed her though, and before he realized it he had made his way around the pond and had sat down by her side.

“Do you have something to say?” She repeated. “Or are you just out enjoying the evening like I am?” 

“Yes,” Vegeta replied unhelpfully. 

“You don't strike me as the type of person to enjoy things,” Bulma said, glancing at him sidelong. “Do you even have any hobbies?” 

The more she spoke, the more Vegeta wanted to silence her with his mouth. “The stars,” he mumbled, looking away from her before he did something particularly rash. 

“I watch the stars.” 

Again they sat in silence. Gradually, Bulma’s heart beat slowed. “You've been oddly quiet lately,” she remarked. The clouds parted further to reveal the stars above them. Just as they had that night those weeks ago, they gaze upward at the universe. 

“I have come to a realization,” Vegeta stated. “And I know what people usually do in such a situation, but I find myself unable to proceed.” 

“And what realization is that?” 

Vegeta let several beats pass as he gathered his thoughts. He turned toward her, brow furrowing earnestly as he spoke: “Woman, I desire you.” 

Bulma’s expression changed from curiosity to shock to a soft, growing smile. “In what way?” she asked, her voice taking on a deeper, huskier quality that Vegeta had not yet heard in it. He blushed and looked away.

“I think you know.” 

“I think you should say it,” she retorted. 

“Vulgar woman,” he muttered. “Spare my dignity.” 

She reached out to him, caressed his face. “I’m attracted to you, too,” she confessed. The light flush on her cheeks was nothing compared to his, but this new-found knowledge emboldened Vegeta. 

He reached out to touch her. And she let him. Her skin was delicate and soft, but it thrummed with life and anticipation. He ran his fingers down the side of her neck, down to her collarbones - she shivered, there - and across her shoulders. His touch asked permission and her body granted it by leaning into him. 

Vegeta swallowed hard. “Woman, I am unsure-” he cut himself off. His gaze followed the trail of his fingers, which had yet to dip below the swell of her breasts. 

“Have you ever done this before?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “Not like this.” 

Bulma took his hand and guided it lower. “I’ll teach you,” she whispered. 

The palm of his hand grazed a hard nub and she gasped. Thinking he had somehow hurt her, he retracted his arm and watched her, wide-eyed. 

“No,” she said, forcefully putting his hand back on her breast. “That felt good.” 

Something in the back of Vegeta’s mind recognized the ring of truth to her words. His only experiences before this were all an act put on by some sex workers that the other Saiyans had hired from a brothel. It was their job to make him feel good - a job they had failed miserably at because he was uncomfortable and uptight the entire time - but this wasn’t anything like that. 

This felt right. 

So he continued. Breaking free from her guidance, he let his hands roam the woman’s chest and cup her ample breasts gently in his rough hands. 

“Here, let me help,” Bulma said, pulling her clothing up and over her head. She reached behind herself to unclasp the undergarment that held her breasts in place, freeing them to the night. 

Vegeta watched as they bounced gently, mesmerized by their voluptuous fluidity. 

Step by step, Bulma removed each item of clothing that she wore. In turn, Vegeta removed his shirt and his pants, but hesitated to remove his underwear. Bulma lay before him in all her pale, delicate glory. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” she told him. “I’ll understand.” 

“I’ve never wanted to before,” Vegeta confided. “But I do now.” He knew the motions and mechanics of the act, of course. But he had never had the mindset to go with it before.

Of all places to find someone he wanted to  _ be with _ , it had to be Earth. 

Too proud to turn back, he finally worked up the nerve to completely disrobe himself. 

“Wow,” Bulma breathed out. “Vegeta, holy shit.” 

Somewhere between touching her body and watching her undress, Vegeta had become painfully aroused. Now he stood proud and at attention, facing the beautiful earth woman. 

“Do you mind if I…?” Bulma asked, her hand snaking down between her legs to touch herself. Her fingers spread her labia and lazily circled her clit. She gazed at him through hooded eyes as he knelt before her, watching her every movement. Her scent intoxicated him. He let his instincts take over; if he were present in mind, he was sure to mess this up. 

Echoing her movements, he let his hand slide languidly up and down his cock. They watched each other like that, hands on themselves, for long, agonizing minutes. 

“Come here,” Bulma said, finally, reaching out to him. He knelt in front of her, between her legs. She wiggled her hips and spread herself open. “I want you inside of me,” she told him matter-of-factly. 

The sight was beyond tantalizing. Vegeta’s eyes flickered over her body, his cock jumping at how she presented herself to him. “Okay,” he said, suddenly out of breath. His movements were shaky with the nervousness that still ran rampant through his system, but upon her invitation, he pushed his cock against her lips. 

She was slick with the fruitage of her self-pleasuring and it felt  _ so fucking good  _ to press up against her like this. “Mmm,” she sighed. “That feels nice.” 

He rutted against her, lost in the sensation of her body. As his speed increased, he felt her hand on his wrist. He opened his eyes - they’d been tightly shut without his realizing it - and stared down at her as she brought him back to reality. 

“This feels really good,” she gasped. “But it would feel even better if you were inside.” She reached down and grabbed hold of the dampened shaft of his cock, guiding him to her entrance. 

Vegeta watched, slack-jawed, as he entered her wet heat. His hips thrust forward ever so slightly, pushing the tip inside of her. He glanced up to see her watching his every expression. 

“It’s good, right?” Her laughter turned to a moan as he pressed forward, filling her up inch by agonizing inch. Her legs wrapped around his ass and pulled him in the rest of the way, covering every part of him in her tight heat. She squirmed as she readjusted herself to fit his girth, and then, not breaking eye contact, she began to roll her hips against his body. 

Picking up on her cue, Vegeta thrust in time to her movements because  _ holy shit. _ This was what everyone was always going on about. This was what it felt like to want, no,  _ need,  _ another person. 

 

And that thought scared the ever-loving daylights out of him. 

 

Bulma kept one hand between them, pleasuring herself even as he experienced what attraction could do for one’s libido. Her wanton expression only served to egg him on. Her pleasure was his pleasure - her inner walls clamped around his cock whenever he hit her at a certain angle and Vegeta was damned sure he’d never felt anything like it before. 

Then, an oddly familiar sensation began to pool in his stomach. It was similar to when he worked his core; it was intense, but pleasurable. Experimentally tightening his abdominals, Vegeta groaned as it kept building and building until he was lost to all conscious thought. 

“Vegeta?”

The pace of his thrusting increased with a certain urgency that he had never experienced before. It was like his body was racing toward some unknowable finish line, but his muscles quivered and throbbed with anticipation. The pleasure soared in an ever-rising crescendo before reaching its peak. He let go, unbridling the control he’d been unconsciously working so hard to maintain.

“Vegeta, are you coming?” Bulma’s voice broke into his consciousness as he toppled over his zenith. 

Bulma’s hand increased in pace until Vegeta felt her body convulsing around his cock, pulling the last of his seed from him. He collapsed on top of her and worked to catch his breath until he could speak again. 

“Oh,” he said. 

“Yeah,” Bulma gasped for air, staring up at him wide-eyed. After a moment, she grinned, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. It shone on her blue locks and granted her the most beautiful afterglow Vegeta had ever seen.

 

He looked to the moonlit pond beside them. Their entwined bodies reflected off the still surface, and a myriad stars bore witness to their lovemaking. 

The stars were different here. Now Vegeta was different, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on [tumblr](http://jadefyre.tumblr.com) and [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/jadefyre)!


End file.
